


Ferris Lights and Summer Fairs

by hycanthis



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Childhood Friends, Ferris Wheels, Humor, M/M, Night Vale kids, night vale teens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-04 15:52:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10994109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hycanthis/pseuds/hycanthis
Summary: “Oh! Oh, Early! EarlyEarlyEarly!” Cecil almost jumped up from sitting, and tapped the other seven-year-old’s shoulder frantically, grinning.“Yeah?”“Did you see the new fair? They came into town yesterday!”“Oh, yeah.” The Ferris wheel popped into Earl's head. “It looked pretty cool. ...I shall never go there again.”Cecil giggled. “What? Oh Early Bird, don't be silly, I want to go with you!"So Earl let the boy drag him back to the fair.





	Ferris Lights and Summer Fairs

Note: This is actually connected to a [poem](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10983924) I did, so you might even want to check that out too, if you like this!

* * *

 

The plump man leaned over the red-and-white striped podium and chuckled heartedly.

“Little child, to ride the Ferris wheel, you need to be at _least_ taller than yourself.” He laughed once more, then sighed dramatically, his whiskers waving at the gust of his sour breath. “Ah, such a tragedy, isn’t it, my boy. To come around expecting nothing but fun and games, but only to cry and despair, being the small, insolent little being you never thought would ever s…”

Earl watched the admission man with a mix of confusion and sympathy. He broke in, halting the carnival man’s rant. “Sir, there is no need for apology, really. I was just wondering...” The seven-year old trailed off, looking around the carnival. It was full of cotton candy Earl’s momma didn’t let him eat, scary rides that Earl’s dad insisted the boy needed a guardian to go on, kiddie rides that were beneath Earl’s dignity, and the Ferris wheel. Earl frowned slightly, but politely smiled once he turned back around (just like his momma told him to). “…Do you suppose there are a few stations I would be accepted at?”

The bloke grunted fondly. “Right down there, good sir!” he pointed gaily at the kiddie rides. He was mocking Earl.

The ginger nodded absently, and walked in the opposite direction.

____

Earl walked quicker for the last few steps to Cecil’s house.

The boy knocked on the Palmer household's door softly and politely, as his momma reminded him to. Then he took a deep breath and shouted, “CECILLL!” The boy shifted his feet on the short cobblestone path, careful to avoid the dirt and dead dandelions of the front yard. His momma told him not to get his new sneakers dirty.

“Early!” The name was called from above. Cecil’s glasses glinted in the sunlight. The friends grinned at the sight of each other, and the younger of the two started to climb over his window.

Earl’s smile immediately dropped. “Oh, nonononono _Cecil,_ don’t _do_ that!” he cried. The ginger covered his eyes in fear. Then, in realizing that the motion probably was not the best idea, held out his arms helplessly.

“Early, I’m fine,” the other boy rolled his eyes but smiled.

“Agh,” Earl walked toward Cecil, arms still outstretched. He gave Cecil a hug, clutching his friend to his chest. He whispered, “Never do that again.”

“Okay.” Cecil patted Earl’s ginger hair.

“Thank you.” Earl relaxed and sat down on the grimy cobblestone path (even thought it hurt, and his momma might get mad at the sight of dirty clothes). Cecil plopped down next to him and immediately regretted it.

“Ouch.”

Earl looked over, concerned, but ultimately decided to ignore the statement. The peaceful silence only lasted a few seconds.

“Oh! Oh, Early! EarlyEarlyEarly!” Cecil almost jumped up from sitting, and tapped the other seven-year-old’s shoulder frantically, grinning.

“Yeah?”

“Did you see the new fair? They came into town yesterday!”

“Oh, yeah.” The Ferris wheel popped into his head. “It looked pretty cool.” Then he remembered the carnival man. “I shall never go there again.”

Cecil giggled. “What? Oh Early Bird, don't be silly, I want to go _with_ you! It won't be any fun being there alone.” Cecil knew a lot about being alone. So Earl let the boy drag him back to the fair.

They came back with cotton candy and lollipops and disappointment on their faces.

____

The teenagers were walking back from the fair, to be saying it nicely. Earl was dragging Cecil away from the carnival, who was wailing and complaining in a way too dramatic to be entirely genuine.

“ _EARL HARLAN_!” The younger boy dug his painted fingernails into Earl's arm. “What **_ever_ ** shall we _do?_ ”

Earl gritted his teeth in pain. “Cee, I'm really sorry I couldn't find us a way to the Ferris wheel for your birthday. I really am. But please there's no use in tryi--OW!”

Cecil harshly tugged the redhead's arm.

“Cecil, that hurt!”

“Aghh, but I'm saaad.” Cecil stuck out his bottom lip and set his head on Earl's shoulder, looking pitifully at the ground.

It was an act. It was also a very bad act, yet Earl seemed to fall for it every time. He hesitated, but sighed dejectedly. “K’ Ceec, I’ll try my best to get you a seat in the morning.”

“Get _us_ seats.”

“I’ll get us seats.”

They walked in silence for a bit, before Cecil spoke up again. “Screw it. I wanna go now.”

Earl let himself be pulled back to the fair.

Cecil muttered under his breath, “I am going to ride the _hell_ out of that Ferris wheel and I will ignore the _spire_ that I accidentally said something that could be interpreted as inappropriate, and I will…” Earl was silent and politely listened to his friend’s rant.

They approached the carnival’s entrance.

“…and in doing that I will—oh, we’re here.” Cecil and Earl stared at the neon mascot. The statue grinned back.

“Twenty dollars if I can smile _that_ wide,” Cecil mumbled, jabbing his thumb at the mascot.

“Deal.” Earl looked past the cheap plastic figure. At midnight, the carnival looked almost dead. The peppy Sprite advertisements sagged, the tapes once holding it seeming thinned and dry. The only sound was the echo of straying sand tapping against hollow kiddie rides and wind blowing through flimsy water pipes. The ginger scrunched his nose in distaste and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “You sure you still want to go? It looks pretty shady.” Cecil had been in too many shady places to be healthy for him. The mascot grinned, yet looked extremely unwelcoming.

Cecil shrugged indifferently. “Even if we can’t, we can still have popcorn,” he singsong-ed.

“It’s the middle of the night, and the carnival just closed.”

“Even if we can’t, we can still steal popcorn,” Cecil singsong-ed. He led the other boy past the mascot. The mascot grinned.

Cecil softly whistled a tune. It pierced through the still air, and he stopped, the echo still ringing. The boy silently pointed to the Ferris wheel and jogged over. His fingers slipped from Earl’s for a second, before grasping them again. The two stopped in front of the machine. Cecil briefly wiped his glasses to see the wheel clearer, and Earl rubbed his thumb against the painted rust. They were in awe. “It’s even lovelier up close,” Cecil murmured. And he was right. The giant red wheel loomed over them, yet was comforting in a way that was hard to find in Night Vale. “Now just imagine if we brought some fire and oranges to roast.”

“Oh, Cecil. Portable fire was banned five years ago.” Earl blinked his black-and-ruby eyes and walked over to the control block. A few switches were flicked and the two boys were washed in pink and yellow light. Cecil gazed at the Ferris’s lights and took Earl’s hand again. Everything was perfect.

Except—“Cecil, we can’t operate the wheel and ride it together at the same time.”

Cecil frowned at the realization. “...We can ask that cat.”

Earl didn’t bother looking the direction Cecil was glancing at. “No Cecil.” The cat slunk away.

“Ah, maybe another day then.”

Earl sensed genuine disappointment in Cecil’s voice. He thought for a minute, and then clicked off the lights. In the darkness, he led the white-haired boy back to the entrance. He spoke softly. “But if you’re still feeling up for it, we _can_ steal some popcorn.”

And that’s exactly what they did.

_____

Earl hummed a flat note as he walked over to the rotting Victorian house. He stopped at the dark wood staircase and looked up, brushing his ginger bangs from his freckled face.

A tanner face was peeking down from the second floor, grinning with Cheshire teeth. The face giggled. “Early!” And arm and a leg started at the windowsill before hesitating and retreating. A few seconds flew, and Cecil was at the front door. Said door was flung open (of course, not without a few harsh creaks), as well as the other boy’s arms. Cecil latched his lanky arms over Earl’s shoulders. “Hi,” he mumbled.

“I got cotton candy.”

Cecil hummed happily and grabbed the plastic bag of cheap sugar and stuffed a fistful down his mouth.

“Don’t overload.”

A snort. “Ooc’n ne’hr oh’fa’loa wi’ can’e cott’n.”

“Cotton candy,” Earl corrected, and started towards his friend’s house.

Cecil lurched forward. “DON’S GO F'ARE.” He looked scared.

Earl quirked an eyebrow, but stepped back onto the dead front yard. “Why? And please swallow.”

The other boy wiped the sugary spit from his lips. “…My room’s dirty.” The teenager led Earl away from the rotting wood.

The ginger rolled his eyes. “Cecil, I’ve seen your room messy plenty times before.” Not that he approved of it, but. Cecil was Cecil, and Earl didn’t dare try to change that.

“You know,” said Cecil, “…If we go to the carnival now, we might be able to get on the Ferris wheel.” He flashed a hopeful smile at Earl.

Earl sighed. “Cee, you’ve been trying to get on that thing since you were seven. _I’ve_ been trying to get on that thing since I was seven. We both always got the same answer.” The carnival man’s jolly voice cracked through his head. _To ride the Ferris wheel, you need to be at_ **_least_ ** _taller than yourself! Haha!_ “…Beside, I’ve already went.”

Cecil looked at him questioningly.

“The cotton candy.”

“Oh.” Cecil nodded.

There was an awkward silence before Cecil piped up again. “Maybe we can break in again.”

“Cecil, we both know why that didn't work the first time.”

“Aw, you're no fun.” But Earl was right. Cecil thought a bit. “...We could climb to the top. Cuz' you know, there's only like, _one_ person watching, and he's the admission guy. And you're obviously fit—you're still in the Boy Scouts—and I'm pretty lightweight, if I say so myself— _and don’t you dare say otherwise—_ so maybe you can even carry me so I don't have to—”

“No.”

“Ugh.” Cecil pouted. “…Well, maybe you can stop being afraid of heights.”

Earl stuttered defensively, blushing angrily. “ _W-what? No!_ I-I just—the people on the Ferris wheel will see us as well. Not just the admission man.”

“Hm.” Once again, Earl served a good point. He was even when caught off guard this time. He sat on the cobblestone path and thoughtfully plucked at a wilted dandelion. Earl sat down next to him. “Hm.” Cecil bit off another piece of cotton candy, chewing thoughtfully. “Early, do you think the carnival man was telling us a riddle?”

Earl shrugged. “If you say so.”

Cecil thought over the carnival man's words. _To ride the Ferris wheel, you need to be at_ **_least_ ** _taller than yourself! Haha!_ The boy mulled over the words. The empty plastic bag crinkled in his hands. A few seconds passed, and Cecil gasped softly. “We can ride on each other's backs,” he whispered.

“… _What_?”

“We can ride on each other’s—”

“No, no. I wasn’t clear enough.” Earl’s voice was strained. “I didn’t mean _what_ as in _what_ did you say _._ I meant _what_ as in _WHAT THE FU—_ ”

“Shh shh!” Cecil quickly placed a finger on the other boy’s lips. His own were spread into a smirk. “Language, Early Bird.” The finger was now off Earl’s face.

“ _Cecil Palmer, we are young adults,_ ” Earl hissed. His face was burning up again, to his embarrassment.

“I’m serious though!” Cecil had an earnest look on his face. “If I ride on your back, we’d both be taller than we actually are, yet the combined body we make together is still us, technically.”

 

…Well. He wasn’t wrong.

 

* * *

 


End file.
